


A Helping Hand

by LadyLorena



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLorena/pseuds/LadyLorena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark's life is an absolute mess after the death of his wife. He cannot care for himself, and he certainly cannot care for his son, eight year old Howard. James gives him an ultimatum- hire a helper. Enter Sarah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony admits his life is a mess

Tony Stark was an absolute mess. Of course, it was to be expected that he would be after Pepper's death, but after two months, it was clear to James Rhodes that there was no way Tony could take care of himself- mostly because he hadn't been sober for more than a few hours the entire time, and those were usually the hours he spent sleeping. He suggested that Tony hire someone to help him around the house. The idea was soundly dismissed. Of course, James did try to remind his friend that there was someone else at stake- 8 year old Howard Stark, a bright young boy who was trying to cope with not only the loss of his mother, but also with his father retreating into his grief. James did what he could for the boy, but it was clear that something had to change quickly.

The gentle suggestions that Tony needed help were getting nowhere, so after another week of taking care of Howard and cleaning up after Tony's binge drinking, James decided he had no other option but to make an ultimatum.

"You're going to hire a helper. I don't care who, but I can't keep missing work to take care of you." He handed Tony a glass of cold water and waited for the protest.

"No, I'm not. I don't want to deal with someone just here to watch the train wreck."

"Fine. I'll screen them. The ad won't say who it's for and they'll have to pass the Rhodey test first before you even meet the finalists."

"You'd do that?"

"To save your drunk ass from choking on your own vomit? Yes. And because you need to focus on getting things right with your son."

"So how are you going to find this magic person who can handle the disaster that is my life?"

"Don't you worry about that. Just get some rest. And in the morning, try to eat an actual breakfast that doesn't involve liquor."

A week after their conversation, James tossed a pile of paper on Tony's table, "I interviewed a few dozen people this past week and these three stood out as the finalists. Rachel, a grandmotherly type I think would be good for Howard; Sarah, the restaurant hostess who saw a brother through to sobriety; and Abe, a professional councillor and life coach who comes highly recommended by a friend of a friend. Tomorrow, you need to get yourself looking presentable and to your office by 10:00am so you can meet them."

Tony flipped through the pages, eyeing the resumes suspiciously, "And you're sure none of them are going to turn on me? One of them is the person I need?"

"No, but it's better than nothing. I'll see you in the morning."

At 10:00am sharp, Rachel walked into Tony's office. James introduced her and they spent 15 minutes talking. Abe followed at 10:30, Sarah at 11:00. When they were all three gone, James was prepared to hear Tony say none of them would work.

"Not Abe. Or at least not all the time. Maybe once a week. I think I'd kill him. Let's offer the job to Rachel."

James called her that afternoon and she turned him down. He called Sarah. She accepted. He also called Abe and scheduled weekly visits. He went to tell Tony. Tony was not entirely happy, but resigned himself to whatever was in store.

Four days later, Sarah arrived for her first day of work.

Sarah had, like most of the world, never seen the Stark family home. Built into the side of a mountain, it looked a lot smaller than it was. The road curved up to a driveway that led to the entrance on the uppermost floor, the tall arching glass entry the only visible window. Hidden from the view of the road, the entire east face of the house was glass and overlooked a steep valley, the hills silhouetted by sunrises, kissed by the golden light every evening.

Howard met her at the door, "You must be Miss Graves."

"Yeah, but it's just Sarah. You must be Howard."

"Yep. Come on in. Dad wanted the other lady, though. More motherly, he said."

"Well I'll do my best to be motherly, then, and maybe it'll all work out."

Howard smiled, "You're going to be better for us than her."

"How do you figure?"

He pointed to her long blonde hair, "You've got some blue in there. You're different."

"I don't exactly scream 'traditional housemaid', do I?" She gestured to her clothes- a 60s mini dress over a pair of wide legged pants, feathers tucked in a few braids in her light hair, beads around her neck. Something jingled as she walked, and Howard could not spot where the bells or bangles were concealed.

Howard led her to the receiving room by the stairs, "Dad will be up in a minute- he's in the shower. Would you like some tea or coffee? I can get it for you while we wait."

"Sure, I'll take a coffee." She settled onto one of the sofas.

Howard brought her the coffee just as Tony was coming up the stairs, "Hey, kiddo- not giving away all the family secrets, are you?" Howard smiled and shook his head. Tony ruffled the boy's hair and then extended a hand to Sarah, "Welcome to our castle. You probably have a few questions about what you're doing here."

"Mr Rhodes told me that I'd be taking care of housekeeping matters, keeping you both company, and helping with Howard's education all while keeping my lips sealed about the family."

"Pretty much. Howie, how about you go get started on your homework so Sarah and I can talk?" Howard disappeared down the stairs and Tony dropped into a chair across from her, "Ok, so here's the deal. I'm a goddamned mess. I drink more than I should. Howie's seeing too much. I know I need to think about him more, but I can't get out of this hole. So you'll be a housekeeper, yeah, but also the buffer between my melt down and my son. You'll have to deal with dragging me back to my bed after I pass out in the bathroom. Make sure I don't wind up like Bon Scott. And you'll have to clean up before he finds the mess. There will be nights you have to help him with his homework, tuck him in, and then deal with me. You won't get back to your own place until late. Can you handle that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been the mop girl. I'm not going to lie, that part of the job sucks, but yes, I can do it."

"You're going to have to make sure that I get to any important meetings no matter how hungover I am."

"Just give me the schedule and I'll drive. But try not to hurl in my car. It's a piece of crap, but it's the only one I've got."

"If I ever do, I'll have it cleaned." He paused as she sipped her coffee, "I don't know if Howie said anything about this, but I thought the other gal might be a better fit...talking to you, maybe not. Maybe we'll be fine." He poured himself a cup, "So what's your philosophy for dealing with drunks and how'd you figure it out?"

"My brother's had some rough spots. We got through it with lot of patience and kindness. It's just a lot of little steps, encouragement, and reminders that falling off the wagon isn't a failure, it's just part of the process."

"And you're sure you can handle a rich spoiled brat on a binge?"

"Not sure how much different it is from anybody else on a binge- just a different name on the label and higher class drugs."

"Well I haven't added drugs into the mix yet."

"Thank god- it's easier to deal with one vice at a time. Trust me, you do not want to know what it's like to talk a meth head out of bad ideas."

"Your brother?"

"No, his ex girlfriend."

"Ah. And how was that breakup?"

"Horrible, and resulted in hospitalisation of more than one of us, but we all surivived."

"Do I want to hear this story?"

"No."

"That bad?"

"A train wreck would be an understatement."

Tony pulled a contract from a folder tucked in his chair, "Read this over and if you still want to work for me, sign it." Sarah read over the terms- weekly pay, no other jobs, and no identifying who she was working for. None of it seemed unreasonable and she signed and dated it without further questions, "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, lady."

"Better than most. What do you want me to start on?"

Tony shrugged, "I'm not really sure. How about I show you the house?" She nodded and he took her downstairs to the spacious living room that bled into an open dining room only separated from the kitchen by a granite topped bar. The library was the only room not part of the open floor plan, a glass wall and french doors keeping the books and the dark wood shelves that housed them tucked deeper under the mountain.

On the floor below, there were four bedrooms. Tony pointed out his room and Howard's room. He gestured to one of the remaining doors.

"Don't go in that one."

"So I'm not going to have to drag you out of there when you're drunk?"

"Nah. I tend to avoid her room when I'm trying to forget how shitty I feel."

"Understood."

He briefly showed her his workshop and then returned to the living room, "So...I guess you can start with the kitchen."

Sarah pushed up her sleeves, noticing that there were far too many empty bottles in the sink compared to how few dishes appeared to have been used during the same time period, "You've got it, boss."

And so began Sarah's days with the Stark family.


	2. Sarah gains a job title

Sarah quickly settled into her work, cooking meals, cleaning, making sure Howard did his homework, and driving him to and from the small private school he attended. She enjoyed time spent with the boy- he was bright, kind, charming, and witty. It was a challenge to keep up with his rapid train of thought, but instead of feeling incredibly stupid when she had to ask him to explain something, she felt like she was happily learning, shedding the shame that had been grilled into her throughout her childhood. He talked about the elegance of mathematics and the intricate bodies of the bugs they were dissecting in science class. She went home and dug through the boxes of books in her apartment untouched since high school, bringing Howard her favourite book on Chaos Theory and the illustrated "A Brief History of Time". When she found him sketching spaceships instead of doing homework, she introduced him to the original Star Trek series and brought him her copy of "Mr Scott's Guide to the Enterprise".

Tony was glad to see the pair having fun and occasionally joined them when they watched old science fiction shows or the old Godzilla movies. He would later find Howard's sketches scattered across the large library tables, from schematics of the vessels and buildings in the films they had watched to storyboards for new episodes and movies. Howard's creative writing assignments, once his most despised homework tasks, turned into favourites littered with science and speculation, aliens and genetic monsters that he illustrated and read to Sarah and Tony.

While Howard blossomed, Tony continued to retreat both at home and in the public eye. Rumours abounded as to just what was happening in the family and why the once-popular Mr Stark no longer accepted invitations to gala events, Hollywood parties, or even company board meetings. The few times that he did appear, he usually stayed briefly and never took off his dark sunglasses, which sparked rumours that he was perpetually hung over or high. Of course, the rumours were not entirely false, as he was hung over or actively drunk a good amount of the time. When he could not hide his problem, he did not leave the house.

Sarah was washing dishes and Tony was waking up when her phone buzzed.

_In trouble at school. Dad will get a call. Please come too?_

She heard Tony's phone ring as the shower turned off. A few minutes later, Tony appeared, his clothing wrinkled and hair disheveled. "Howie's school called. I need you to go figure out what's going on."

"You're not going?"

"No. I feel like my head is going to explode. And the light hurts. I'll call ahead and tell them you're coming."

"You're not giving me very much to go on. What did they say happened? Is he hurt? Sick?"

"Strangely enough, they say he got into a fight."

She nearly dropped the dish she was scrubbing, " _Howard_? In a fight?"

"Yeah. I can't believe it, either."

Sarah set out a bowl and spoon for Tony, "Well, I guess it's Cheerios for breakfast for you, then. I'll make us some lunch when I get back." She finished the last plate in the sink and dried her hands, "The day Howard picks a fight will be the day pigs fly."

Tony sighed, "Yeah. And thanks for covering my ass."

She picked up her keys and bag, "No problem, boss- just make sure you make that call. I don't want the school telling me I can't talk to anyone." She texted Howard that she was on her way as she walked out to the car.

Half an hour later, she pulled into the school parking lot and tucked her rusted Volvo station wagon between a brand new Mercedes and a fully restored vintage Jaguar. Her car could not have stood out more unless it had been a Vanagon.

When she entered the office, she saw Howard sitting alone while the secretary typed and the pricipal was in conference.

She sat down beside him. He stared at the floor. "So what is this all about?"

"Dad didn't come?"

"No."

The expression on his face was both relief and sadness, "Good...I guess. I'm just glad you did."

"You still haven't told me what's going on."

The secretary interrupted their conversation, "Excuse me, miss, but I can't just let you act in the place of Howard's parent. His father called, yes, but that's just not the way we do things here."

Howard thought quickly, "She's my governess."

"She's what?"

"My governess. You know, like Mary Poppins, but without the umbrella."

The secretary fell silent and picked up the phone on her desk. A few moments later, the principal met them both and escorted them into an empty meeting room.

"My secretary has informed me that you're Howard's governess?"

"Yes. His father asked that I act in his place."

He extended his hand, "Chauncey Randall. Please, have a seat, Miss...?"

"Sarah. Sarah Graves." She settled into a blue plastic chair opposite Mr Randall.

"Many of our students have governesses, but we can never be too careful. I'm sure you can understand my secretery's hesitation seeing a new face."

"Of course."

"I'm sorry that we couldn't give you any details over the phone, but it is better to talk in person. Howard hit Robert Fritchert today and broke his glasses. Robert says the fight was entirely unprovoked. From what I understand, there is some stress in the Stark home right now, but this was so unlike Howard that I wanted to sit down with you."

Sarah looked to Howard, "What happened?"

He fiddled with the edge of the table, "Promise not to tell anyone? They'll just make it worse."

"Who will make what worse?"

"The other kids, Bobby has big friends."

"If anyone makes your life trouble, just talk. We can fix most things."

He took a deep breath, "Bobby's been saying things about Dad for weeks. I can handle that. It's not like the whole world doesn't know he's a mess. But today he said Dad should just kill himself so we'd stop hearing about him. I kept it together until he said that he 'didn't get why he was so upset about the death of his whore secretary.'"

She stared in disbelief, "He said wha-...no, wait, you don't have to repeat it."

She turned to Mr Randall, "I'm going to guess that's not exactly what Robert said happened."

"Not at all. According to Mr Fritchert, his son is a saint, so the fight was completely Howard's fault.."

"So where do we go from here? And how do we address that Howard's been dealing with this for weeks?"

"You don't," Howard interjected, "If you do, it'll just get worse. I won't hit him again, I promise. Even if he says things about Mom."

Mr Randall slowly shook his head, "I understand you don't want this to be fussed over, but Robert is going to have to stop bullying or he will be asked to leave this school. You are not his first victim."

Sarah sighed, "I suppose a conference with Mr Fritchert is out."

"Robert is echoing what his father believes. Sitting down with them is not likely to be productive, but I will remind them of our behaviour policy. Howard- I know you would rather we do nothing, but since that is not an option, what do you want to see happen?"

Howard fiddled with the hem of his shirt, "I want it to stop, but I don't want his friends to just do it instead. And I don't want them to beat me up like they said they would if I told."

"When during the day is this happening?"

"Mostly during lunch recess. That's when they all do it."

"And where?" "By the benches where I read."

"I'm going to have someone check on you more often. If we can catch them in the act, we can stop this. Please, talk to me when these things happen. If one student doesn't feel safe at school, I am not doing my job right."

Howard nodded and asked if he could go home.

He was silent for the first half of the drive. "Sarah? Is it normal to feel sick when somebody says stuff like Bobby did?"

"Yeah. Totally normal. And it's normal to want to hit somebody, too."

"Did you ever get into fights at school?" "A fair few. I bit a girl once, too. She slapped my sister."

He was quiet for a few minutes, "It's not just about Mom."

"Of course not- you love your dad, even when he messes up."

"Not that... Did he tell you he really did try to kill himself a few weeks after Mom died?"

"No, he didn't."

"He would have done it, too, if Uncle Jim hadn't come over. He talked Dad out of it. I don't think Dad knows I know. When Bobby said that..."

"It brought back a whole lot of sad and angry."

"Yeah. And I almost hit him then. But I kept it back. And then he just had to say one more thing."

"Howard?"

"Yeah?"

"You're one strong kid."

He smiled, "Thanks. And you're one awesome governess."

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Howard was feeling better. He only told his father that Bobby had been making fun of the family and he'd let it get to him. It was clear from the look on Tony's face he knew there was more to the story that he wasn't going to hear from his son.

Tony confronted Sarah late that night while she was scrubbing the kitchen floor, "So what really happened today?"

"Huh?"

"What really happened? Howie's a terrible liar. I know he's not telling me something."

She sat up and dropped the brush into her bucket, "If I tell you, you don't let on that you know. There's a reason he didn't want to tell you."

"Deal. Now why'd he get into a fight?"

"He's been teased for weeks-"

"About me."

Sarah sighed, "Yeah, about you. And he says he kept it together pretty well, even when Bobby said you should just go kill yourself. But then he said that he, and I quote Howard, 'just didn't get why you were so upset by the death of your whore secretary.' That's when he had enough and took a swing. Broke Bobby's glasses, too."

Tony's face fell and he dropped onto a stool, "No wonder he hit him."

"He didn't want to hurt you, Tony, so he didn't tell you."

One long swig from the bottle later, he said, "Yeah. I get it. He's a good kid."

"Do you need anything?"

"You might want to stay a little later tonight. Just to make sure."

"Of?"

"To make sure I can handle this as well as Howie did. To make sure I don't do anything incredibly stupid."

"Like planning to beat up a kid."

"Planning is OK, as long as it's only a plan. But given how many of these-" he shook the bottle, "-I intend to drink tonight, you might have to keep an eye on me."

"The first test, eh?"

"Yeah."

Sarah stood up and wiped her wet hands on her very well-used apron, "Do what you need to. I'll make sure you stay safe."

"We'll see in the morning if you pass."

She watched him wander down the stairs. A door opened, then clicked shut. Half an hour later, she crept down the stairs and glanced down the darkened hallway. A light shone out from under the door she was not to enter. She returned upstairs and settled on the sofa with a book. She dozed on and off until sunrise. There were footsteps on the stairs. Tony appeared, wincing in the light, and noticed her on the couch.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Not really. The couch is really comfy, though. I could have."

"But you didn't."

"I'm not much use to you if I'm asleep."

"Go home, Sarah. Get some rest."

"Driving might not be the best idea."

He gestured for her to follow him and led her to the guest room. "Sleep. It'll be a few hours before Howie's up, and since it's Saturday...who cares if we sleep all day?"

She flopped onto the bed, "Dear god, this is even more comfy than the couch!" He laughed, "Thanks, boss. I'll be up in a few hours to get back to work."

"No, you sleep- just...well, thank you. Thank you for staying here." She smiled and quickly fell asleep.


	3. Sarah learns Tony is a man of his word

Sarah would not have known there might be trouble at work if she had not had to wait in line at the gas station and seen Tony's face splashed across dozens of tabloids.

She had known about the interview, of course. Tony had left early in the morning with James and she had spent the day studying Roman architecture in preparation for Howard's book report on Julius Caesar- he wanted to build a scale model of the Senate.

"I don't know why Dad's doing this thing. He's just going to say something stupid and then beat himself up over it for days. Grown-ups can be dumb sometimes."

Sarah had shook her head, "Yeah, I don't know either. You think he'd avoid it, since everything just gets blown up by the press. He says 'bless you' when someone sneezes and the next thing you know the rags are saying he's found religion."

Howard had laughed so hard he snorted, "It's true! It's true!"

And they were right. She picked up a magazine and thumbed through it while she waited. Quotes in colourful text punctuated the article with as little context as possible. A large headline blared "TONY STARK ADMITS TO STRUGGLING WITH SUBSTANCE ABUSE!" and a subheading speculated that Howard was left alone for long stretches of time while his father was stone drunk. An inset article titled "TROUBLE IN THE STARK HOME?" said Tony was unfit to parent the boy and someone should investigate his welfare. She tossed the magazine back on the rack and paid for her coffee and gas.

The house was eerily quiet when she arrived. Howard came from the library to greet her.

"Dad's a mess today. He said I don't have to go to school if I don't want to."

"Do you?"

"Not really- I mean, Bobby's going to have a field day with this. But the teachers might catch him and then it'd finally be over."

"Think, too, about if you need some time away from the house."

He grabbed his backpack, "Got it. Yeah. Let's go."

"Do you want to say goodbye to your dad?"

"He won't notice if I do."

They were on the road before Sarah asked just how bad the morning had been. Howard had found Tony passed out in the bathroom between the toilet and the tub. He wished her luck dealing with the mess.

When Sarah returned to the house, she found Tony in the bathtub, bottles lined up along the side. He was sitting in the warm water completely dressed.

"That bad of a night, eh?" Sarah asked as she entered the room, bucket of soapy water and washrags in hand.

"Yeah. That bad. And messy. You might just want to wait. It'll likely be worse tomorrow."

"And that's exactly why I'm not waiting. It's the same as shovelling snow- if you keep up on it as it comes down, you don't end up digging yourself out from under two feet of the stuff at once."

"Two feet of vomit would be impressive."

"And really gross. Once I'm done in here, you're going to get yourself dry and dressed. You have a big press conference tomorrow and I'm guessing you'd like to feel somewhat human for it."

"Nah, I'll be fine. Piece of cake. And speaking of cake, that sounds good. Or maybe pancakes. Can you make them?"

"I don't want to have to clean them up in half-digested form later."

"Deal."

From the way Tony devoured the pancakes, she guessed that he had not eaten yet. Not long after he had finished breakfast, he opened another bottle of bourbon and Sarah washed dishes while he stared at the television without turning it on.

She made pasta with an avocado sauce for lunch. He hardly touched it. She put the leftovers in the fridge and then her phone rang.

_In the office. Need you to come get me. I am OK. Bobby caught. His friends suck._

She showed it to Tony just as his own phone rang. He did not answer it, but listened to the message from the school. He gave her a pleading look and she found her keys.

"Don't do anything stupid before I get back, OK?"

"I'll be fine. I was before you were here."

"That's not how James tells it."

"Rhodey needs to learn to keep his nose out of other people's business."

"You hired me to be nosey."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...just go get Howie."

""I'm on it, boss."

When she arrived at the school, Howard met her outside the office. She heard someone yelling behind the closed door of the conference room.

" So...what's going on here, kiddo?"

"Bobby got caught. Then his friends tried to beat me up for telling. They thought Mrs Price was the only one watching and since she was gone with Bobby... Well, she wasn't. I got roughed up and pushed around, but Mr Travis stepped in and even though Andrew and Carl ran off, he knew who they were. He dragged Delton and Wicket inside. Everybody's in trouble but me. But I still want to go home."

"Wicket?"

"Some rich kids have weird names."

"I think that's the name of an Ewok."

"Maybe his parents are short and furry."

A very angry man slammed the conference door open, "This was a setup! A setup! My lawyers will-" He ran into Sarah, "Watch where you're going!". He noticed she was with Howard, "So the little saint's father couldn't even bother to sober up for this?"

Sarah kept her face pleasant and her voice even, "As Howard's governess, my business is with overseeing his education, not his father's recreational activities."

"Well you can tell him to expect a call from my lawyer. Bobby's been very traumatised by all this."

"You can tell your lawyer to call his legal team directly. I'm sure they can figure out which firm represents the Stark family." She turned to Howard, "Come on, Howard. We have better things to do than stand here all day." They did not speak much the ride home and when they arrived, he retreated to his sketchbook.

Sarah found Tony sitting in the kitchen, "It may be over at school, but Mr Fritchert said to expect a call from his attorney."

" Eh, not worried. What did you tell him?"

"To have them call your legal team directly."

"Is Howie OK?"

"A little bruised, but yeah. He's glad it's over. There are five boys who won't be back to school tomorrow- likely not ever."

Tony sighed and sipped a cup of coffee, "God, I'm a shitty father."

"Nah, I wouldn't say that. A stressed father, a grieving father, a father struggling to find his feet, sure. But a shitty father? Not a chance."

"Oh come on, Sarah, I can't even manage to pick my kid up from school when he gets beat up. What kind of parent is that?"

"Look, you're not a shitty dad, OK? Take it from someone who actually did have a shitty dad. You. Are. Not."

"So if not this, what would I have to do to reach shit-tastic parenting?"

"Well you could beat him, but in my experience, the headgames are worse than getting the switch. You could tell your kid to move so you can have their bedroom to store an extensive collection of 80s porn. That's pretty shitty. So is convincing your youngest that going to college is a waste of time because no man wants a smart wife while you actively trying to break her heart."

"That's...really _really_ shitty."

"Ashley took every criticism to heart. Mom tried to get custody, but breaking your kid's spirit isn't enough for the courts to intervene. She shut herself off and just stayed home listening to him complain about her not being pretty enough for dating."

"Did he do that to you?"

"Yeah, but I was eighteen- you know, and he wanted his porn library. I told him to go to hell and went to live with Mom."

"What happened to her?"

"She's a marine biologist living in Wales with her girlfriend. It took a few years, but I finally got her to college."

"That's good."

"Yeah. And you're not a shitty dad. You encourage your son to have dreams and to follow them. You let him grow and learn and you do your best to provide everything he needs to satisfy his curiosity. Even when you feel like hell."

Tony took a deep breath and sighed, setting his bottle aside on the counter to give her a hug, "Thanks, Sarah. Really. Perspective is a good thing."

She smiled, then shooed him to the living room, "Now get you gone, boss. I've got to feed the kid and then get him started on his homework before cleaning the kitchen and getting started on dinner."

"More pancakes?"

She shook her head, laughing, "Sure, Tony. Why not?"

He was feeling only marginally better that night and requested that Sarah once again stay the night. She fetched her overnight bag and settled in on the couch, letting Howard watch a little television with her before ushering him off to bed. Tony retreated to his own room saying he was going to tuck in early for the evening. She did not believe him. He was up well into the night and she stayed awake until she saw the light go out under his door.

The next morning came quickly and before long, Sarah was driving her Volvo to New York City with Howard in the front seat, chattering excitedly about all the things he wanted to see, Tony in the back praying that the headache and nausea would subside.

He clutched his coffee and winced as Howard shouted, "Oooo, graveyard! You lose your cows!"

"Cows? What on earth are you two doing up there?"

"Playing 'cows in the graveyard'! You should, too, Dad!"

"No, no. I'm pretty sure whatever crazy that is, my head can't handle it."

"You count the cows you pass on your side and try to get more than the other person. When you pass a cemetery, your cow count resets to zero- and Howard almost always wins because it's hard to count cows while driving."

"I didn't until I figured out my secret method of cow counting."

"You'd beat me, the car's making me feel like crap."

"Hate to break it to you, boss, but it's not the car."

"Yeah, well... Oh shit." Tony scrambled and found a small paper bag, heaving. Sarah cracked the windows. Howard went silent, embarrassed. After, no one spoke for a few minutes.

Sarah sighed, "It's not the first time someone's thrown up in this car. It'll be fine."

"God, Sarah, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'll get the car detailed for you, I promise."

She turned down a side road and into the parking lot of a small diner, "This is my friend Maebel's place. She'll lend us a hand."

She parked the car and made a call, "Hey, Mae! It's me. Yeah, doing pretty well. A friend visited the voms and we're at your back door. Can you take care of him and his son while I do the dirty job? You're a peach."

"Sarah, I've got to get to that press conference in time."

"You will. Trust me."

A short, round woman with red hair piled in a high bun met them at the back door, "Come on in, come on in. We'll get you right as rain. You remember where the bucket is, sweetie?"

"Yep. Closet by the basement stairs."

"Good, good. You boys just follow me. You can get cleaned up and feeling better. Honey, do you want some pancakes?"

Sarah cleaned the car the best she could. When she was done, she found Tony sipping a cup of coffee while Howard polished off a plate of silver dollar pancakes and a cup of cocoa.

As they left, Tony tried to pay for their meal but Maebel just smiled and shooed them out the door, "My pleasure, darlin'. You two just be on your way, it's on the house. Come back again sometime!"

Back in the car, Tony wondered about Sarah's home life. She never talked about her friends, and all he knew was she had a sister, a brother with addictions, and a really crappy father. He was about to ask her how she new Maebel when Howard shouted, "COWS!" It could wait and Howard was having far too much fun to interrupt.

When they arrived in New York City, Howard's eyes were glued skyward, his mouth gaping. Tony rarely took him to the city, afraid that the press vultures would descend. Tony had worked incredibly hard to shield his son from becoming a casualty to his fame.

Tony was relieved when they pulled up to the hotel ten minutes early, "Here- pull up for the valet guy."

"Are you sure you want him to know you showed up in your governess' craptastic Volvo?"

"Could be worse. Could be a Pinto."

"I actually had one of those for about two weeks. It caught fire on the highway on my way to school. I kept driving. It made it there, but not back home."

Tony stared at her, "It what?"

"Caught fire. You should have seen the smoke rolling out from under the hood." She tossed a few things in her bag before tossing her keys over the roof to Tony, "Don't worry, this car's never done that."

He handed the keys to the valet, "Hang on a minute. Sarah, you and Howie head to lunch- I'll meet you after the press conference. It shouldn't take long."

As they were walking away, Tony spoke to the valet, "When a guy named James Rhodes asks for that car in about ten minutes, you're going to bring it to him. He'll bring it back. Don't ask any questions and there'll be a good tip when we leave."

The valet agreed and Tony went in to his press conference wondering how badly he was going to mess it up.

Sarah and Howard arrived at the closed restaurant; Howard flopped down on a bench, "Dad said he made a reservation. How are they closed?"

"I don't know, but we can wait for your dad. He said it wouldn't be long."

"He's a recluse and everybody's curious. It won't be short."

"Then I guess it's a good thing Mae got you some pancakes."

"They were _really_ good pancakes."

Sarah saw someone at the host desk and gently tapped on the glass door, waving when she caught the woman's eye, "Here, we can ask her."

The woman cracked the door, "I'm sorry, but we don't open for another hour."

"But my dad said he made a reservation."

"He must have talked to the new girl. You'll have to wait."

"Can you just check your book for a reservation for Howard, Sarah, and Tony? Please?"

She sighed, "Yeah, why not?" Howard watched her flipping through pages at the desk. She stopped and glanced from the book to them and back to the book before hurrying out, "Jesus, why didn't you say your dad is Tony Stark? He reserved the party room early. Come on in." She called back to the kitchen, "Heads up, Roy, the Starks are here- time to get to work!."

They ordered appetizers and drinks. Sarah pulled a deck of cards from her bag and taught Howard how to play blackjack and poker. They were betting with french fries when Tony sat down.

"So tell us about your press conference."

"Ooo, what was the worst question this time, Dad?"

"Someone asked if I still missed your mother. I didn't expect that one at a conference about arc reactor tech in third world countries."

Sarah pushed the fries toward him, "Ouch. Here, fries are the ultimate comfort food."

"The papers tomorrow are going to be crazy."

"Bad enough I should stay home from school? Because I have an art project to talk about tomorrow and I don't want to have to make it up ."

"No, not that bad. I just told him his question was insensitive and off topic, so I wasn't going to answer it."

"Oh. So it'll be the 'what is he hiding' kind of tabloid field day."

"Yep."

Sarah waived to the waitress and they ordered, spending a leisurely lunch joking about the headlines and playing cards.

When they left, the snow had just started to fall, the flakes glittering on the now-spotless hood of the car as the valet brought it around.

"This is my car, right?"

"Yeah. I told you if anything happened to it, I'd get it cleaned same-day."

"This is beyond clean- there's not even a water spot on the thing. And somebody sewed up my seats, too."

"I told them to do whatever they could in the time we had. I think they did pretty well."

She sat down, started the car, and turned on the radio, "They fixed it!"

Tony smiled, "My people have their priorities right."

Sarah was giddy as they drove home, even as the weather worsened. When she could no longer see anything but the lights of the semi she was following at a crawl, she pulled off the main road and found a park.

"Might as well hunker down for a while, the snow doesn't seem to be getting any better and the weather people are saying it won't let up tonight." She turned off the car and crawled over the seat, leaning over the back bench, "Don't open the doors. Come on back, Howard. We're going to get cozy." She tossed blankets on Tony's lap and handed him a small box, "Provisions. There's more back there, but my snowed-in kit is finite."

"You have a kit?"

"Yeah. If you go off the road and get stuck, you want to be able to survive a little while until someone finds you."

"Does this happen a lot?"

"Not to me, but after the once, I don't ever want to be without blankets and food for a day again."

Howard wedged himself between Sarah and Tony, "I've never been stuck in a snowstorm before."

"I could probably call somebody to come get us."

"Nah, let's just ride it out. It'll be fun. Something new for the Starks."

"Being stuck in a small space really isn't my thing."

"Come on, Dad, don't be silly. If we can't get out in the morning, we'll call for help." Tony reluctantly agreed. He handed out the blankets and they huddled together as the car grew colder. Sarah told stories from different mythologies. Howard was fascinated until he dozed off propped against his father. Sarah straightened his blanket and leaned back against the door.

"Wait, you aren't going to finish the story? How does Lugh get into Tara?"

"And here I thought only one of you was listening."

"It's a good story, of course I was listening. And you're a really good storyteller. Where did you learn?"

"At the knee of a man who spun stories of the Old World the way his wife spun thread on the wheel. You don't take a class to become a good storyteller- you pick it up the old way."

"Your grandfather?"

"He was remarkable."

"Tell me about him. We've got the time."

"He was a shipbuilder before he came across the pond. Welsh. He did everything by hand. I watched him turn table legs on a lathe he powered with pedals. He and Babushka's house didn't even have electricity. They lived in this tiny cabin in the middle of the woods with a woodshop bigger than the house. The windows all had that wavy glass, the doors were handmade and solid oak."

"Babushka?"

"Yeah, my Welsh grandfather married a Jewish Russian woman who says she was Red Emma's cousin."

"Was she?"

"Probably not. But I'm not going to let the truth get in the way of a good story. Her memories were hers to recall as she wanted. She was just as radical."

"You don't want to know?"

"No. Not right now."

"Why not?"

"Legacy. If I'm related to Emma, I'm going to feel like I've suddenly got some pretty big shoes to fill. And I just can't do that right now."

"You'd lose friends or something?"

Sarah looked a little uneasy, "No."

"What would Maebel do if you were the next Emma Goldman?"

"Try to talk some sense into me and then fuel me up with pancakes and coffee so I could write for hours. It's not like that would really be anything new, though."

"What about your other friends?"

"You mean my pet rats? Because that's who else I have. Jack and Sally." She fiddled with the edge of her blanket, "It's OK, though. I mean, I do fine."

"Sarah, what are you talking about?"

"You're not the only one with a limited friend circle," she snapped. He put up his hands defensively, "I'm sorry. Just a little touchy. Don't worry about it, though."

He dropped the subject and a slightly uncomfortable silence took over.

"Get some rest, Tony. It'll get mighty cold in here overnight and it'll be easier if you can just snuggle up with the kiddo and sleep through it." She tugged the blanket up to her chin, "Night, boss."

"But I want to know how Lugh gets into the hall..."

She smiled, "Well you're just going to have to wonder. Put away the phone, no cheating. I'll tell you on the drive."

Sarah woke to the snow glittering bright and the sound of a plough truck clearing the parking lot. She stepped out of the car, stretched, and fetched her collapsable shovel, clearing out the plough cast from behind the tires. She waved to the truck driver and headed back to the Stark family home, the boys still asleep in the back seat.


	4. Sarah saves something precious

A few weeks after Christmas, Sarah arrived to find Howard painting a scale model of the Enterprise A, "Hey, that's pretty nifty. Did you build it yourself or with a kit?"

"Dad got me a 3D printer for Christmas and I did the designs. Did you have a good break?"

"Yeah. It was quiet. You?"

"Same here. Dad says my model needs accurate lights and working phaser beams, so he's down in the lab if you want to say hi."

"Sounds like visiting could be treacherous. No photon torpedos, though?"

"I'm sure he'll get to those next."

She ruffled his hair, "When I get back, tell me all about the Enterprise, OK?"

He nodded, focussing on the lettering on the hull. Sarah dropped her bag by the couch and wandered downstairs. She had only been to the lab once, but it was not hard to find- all she had to do was follow Tony's music.

She watched him from the door as he lowered a little arc reactor into a plastic disk and hooked up something within. He pushed a button and a small blast of light vaporised a paper target set up a few inches away.

He looked up and then glanced at the iPod dock as Warrant's "Cherry Pie" blasted; he turned it down just enough to talk over, "I'm not turning it off. You can tell me it's patently offensive, but this is my lab and my music."

"Why would I tell you to turn it off?"

"Because it's really a horrible song."

Sarah pulled a battered pink iPod mini from her back pocket and flipped through the songs; she went over to the dock, "Switch when it's done?"

"I almost fear what you are about to play."

"Oh, you'll live." When she pushed play, Tony held up one of his hands, miming readiness to fire on the thing if needed. She rolled her eyes.

"Wait, I know this song."

"You'd damn well better."

"You listen to hair metal?"

"Extensively. How could I not dig 'Bad Medicine'?"

"I am so glad I hired you."

"So how was your Christmas?"

"Too quiet. And hard. But did you see the model Howie made? Kid's brilliant. Just like his father. Yours?"

"Also quiet, but not in a bad way."

"How are your rats? He keeps asking about them."

"They're doing fine. I'll tell him when I get back upstairs. You OK down here?"

"Yeah. But I'd love some coffee. And maybe lunch. I forgot about breakfast again."

"I'll get on that. You're coming up to eat, though. No hermitting all day."

"Awww, you steal all my fun."

She took back her iPod and replaced his, "Yep, that I do, boss." As she walked out of the room, she heard him crank up "Kickstart My Heart".

While she did not let him hide through lunch, Tony retreated the rest of the day. He said he was fine and she went home to her own bed. The next morning, she arrived to a very still house and wondered what was going on. Tony was nowhere to be found and Howard was staring at his model. A few slices of toast sat untouched on a plate beside him.

"Howard...what's wrong? You're never this quiet. And you're not at school."

"Nothing important happens the first day back from break."

"You're not answering my question, honey. And where's your father?"

"I don't know. But don't expect to see him today."

"Why not?"

"It's their anniversary."

"Oh. What can I do to help?"

"Nothing. Expect him to be bad. He was on Christmas, too. He will be again on Mom's birthday."

"Firsts after loss suck."

"Yeah."

"Just tell me what I can do to make things easier and I'll do it- comfort foods, movies, whatever you need."

He tried to smile, "Thanks, Sarah. You're awesome."

"I do my best. Hang in there, kiddo. I need to go find your dad, but I'll be back soon."

Sarah did not find Tony, but there was a light on in Pepper's room, so she left him alone. By dinner, she was worried. She put pizza in the oven and went downstairs. She knocked on the door and no one answered. She tested the doorknob and found it unlocked. She slowly pushed the door open. Tony was passed out draped over the bed, bottles on the floor, one still in his hand. Photo albums and boxes of pictures were spread over the comforter. So were the contents of his stomach. She covered her nose and went closer. He was still breathing. She ran a bath and returned for him, hauling his mostly unconscious self into the warm water. He muttered a thank you and then dozed off. Sarah returned to the mess in Pepper's room. Her first concern was if the photo albums were damaged. One look told her that they were.

She went up to check on the pizza and to get a phone number from Howard, "How do I get in touch with Mr Rhodes?"

"Is Dad that bad?"

"Your dad will be fine when he sobers up a bit, but I need some help."

"Oh. OK." He recited the number.

She called him once she was back in Pepper's room, "Hi...this is Sarah at Tony's. I've got a big problem here. No, he's not dead. He threw up all over the photo albums in Pepper's room. If I send you a photo, can you see if you can find similar albums so I can try to save the pictures?"

An hour later, with Tony still asleep in the tub, James arrived, "I couldn't find any that were exactly the same, but I think these will work."

She had the albums on towels on the floor, "Awesome. Do you want to help me?"

"What are we doing?"

"Moving everything. If the pages are clean, we keep them and move them intact. If not, we take out the pictures and move them over to a clean page. The covers aren't salvageable."

"He must have been pretty wasted. He's threatened me for sneezing near these."

"I'm not sure he even knows he's in the bathtub. You want to make sure he's still alive?" He checked, and then settled down beside her. Pepper had scrapbooked a few of the albums, and while many of the pages were fine, there were a few they had to recreate on a clean page. Howard peeked in twice before bed time, but did not want to help. She tucked him into bed and resumed the work.

They took a break to shelve the albums they had finished before returning to the heavily damaged wedding scrapbook. Their work was not perfect, but it was either an imperfect salvage job done with care, or the entire album ruined.

A few minutes after midnight, they finished pulled Tony from the tub. He woke just enough change into dry clothes.

Sarah went to check on Howard, still awake in bed with a book, "Hey, kiddo. You OK?"

"I guess."

"You just guess?"

"No. No I'm not. I'm mad."

"At?"

"Dad. He's so stuck that he just forgets about me and drinks all day. And then he ruins the pictures of Mom. Is it bad that I kind of hate him?"

"No, it's not bad to be that mad. He's your dad and he's not there when you need him. That sucks. But he didn't ruin the pictures. I think four pictures have a little smudge at the edge because we had to wipe them. We did our best and even rebuilt scrapbook pages when we had to. Some of the stickers couldn't be moved, but we got most of them, and we did a pretty good job."

"He'll still be pissed off because you didn't do it perfect."

"And I'll tell him to stuff it. There were two options- do the best we could, or throw them away."

He sighed, "Thanks, Sarah. He might not think it's good enough, but I think you guys are awesome."

"You're always welcome."

"I think I'll try to get some sleep."

"Probably a good idea. James is getting your dad to bed and I'll be tucking in soon, too."

"Are you staying the night?"

"Of course."

He smiled as he set the book aside and she tucked the blankets up to his chin. James set up a cot in Tony's room while Sarah washed dinner dishes. She brought her bag down to the spare room and mopped Tony's bathroom before falling into bed.

In the morning, Sarah woke early and started breakfast. Howard helped in the kitchen. It was not long before James brought Tony to the table, his hand over his eyes.

"God I feel like hell. Rhodey, how much did I drink last night?"

"Do you remember being in the bathtub?"

"When was I in the bathtub?"

"Too much, Tony, too much."

"So how did I end up in the tub?"

"Sarah put you there. You were a mess."

Something clicked in his mind, "Wait, but I was in Pepper's room."

Neither Sarah nor James knew quite how to tell him what had happened, but Howard was still angry, "Dad, you threw up all over Mom's photos." Tony did not seem to hear him.

"But I told her not to go in there. Sarah, didn't I tell you not to go in that room?"

"Yes, you did."

"And you did anyway?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice."

"No, you did. And I told you not to." He was growing agitated, "You know what? How can I be sure you'll do what I ask when you disobey the one direct order I've given you? Just...just go home. You're done."

Sarah could barely contain her anger, but managed not to throw the plate of eggs at him. She set it down on the counter.

"Did you hear me? You're done. Go home."

"After what we did to fix what you screwed up... Next time, I hope you wake up with your face vomit-crusted to your wedding pictures. I should have left them, let it be a wake up call." She went to the guest room to pack her things.

James stared after her.

Howard tossed his silverware on the table, "God, Dad, you are such an asshole!"

"Hey, you don't talk to me like that!"

"Dad, you threw up all over Mom's photo albums! They spent HOURS moving everything. They even rebuilt Mom's wedding scrapbook because it was so bad!" He stormed away from the table and ran down the stairs.

James picked at his eggs, "He's not lying. I've never been a scrapbooking man, but I think I am now."

"Wait, what?"

"Your wedding album. The one Pepper spent days getting just right. You hurled all over it. We slit the plastic sleeves, lifted out the pages, and took everything off each one you ruined and rebuilt it on a clean page. Took us hours. You spent most of that time asleep in the bathtub."

He heard footsteps on the stairs, "Shit, I owe her an apology."

"A big one."

He saw her pass on the stairs, "Sarah! Wait!"

Sarah did not wait. She did not even hesitate. Tony bolted from the table and stumbled up the steps. She slammed the door and threw her bag on her front seat, cranking the radio. Michael Jackson. "Scream." Exactly what she wanted to do. She saw him open the door. She spun her tires as she left the driveway.

"I can deal with the drinking. I can deal with the vomit. I can deal with just about anything with what he pays me. But for hell's sake, I am not going to be treated like shit for doing something right."

She dug around in her bag and found her phone. There was one person who might be able to help her sort through her thoughts. Her brother.


	5. A gentlemen's wager

Serge was sipping coffee with his mother and grandmother in a small cabin deep in the woods of West Virginia. His grandmother was close to a century old, but still wove elaborate stories. Serge had made it a point to record as many of them as he could, sitting with her for hours with a tape recorder and notebook. His mother told stories, too, and when the two women created something together, time stopped, the words suspended between. Phrases in Russian and Welsh peppered their conversation.

"You see, Serge, this is why you need to settle down with a nice Russian girl," his mother said, "You speak the language beautifully and you know the stories so well!"

"Or perhaps a Welsh girl. Dear Serge, you could marry Welsh, like I did. Very hard working, my husband. You remember him, no?"

"Of course I do. We sat for many hours at his knee listening to his stories."

"In this very cabin."

"Yes, in this very cabin."

Serge's phone rang, "Is it a nice Russian girl?" his mother teased.

"Yes, it is." He clarified only after he had a moment to relish her reaction, "Sarah." She swatted his arm, his grandmother chuckling. "Sarah, darling sister, what brings your lovely voice to my ear on this beautiful winter morning?"

"Work. Do you have a minute?"

He excused himself from the living room and sat down at the window bench, "Of course. Are you in trouble?"

"Probably, but nothing too bad...though I might end up without a job."

"How did you manage to do something so terrible as a housekeeper? Did you set the house on fire?"

"No. My boss is usually pretty sweet. I mean, he's got an ego the size of a small country, but he's not a bad person. He's got a drinking problem though- a big one. And last night he threw up all over the family scrapbooks. I rescued them, but I had to go into a room he didn't want me in to do it."

"He was more angry than grateful? And you say he is not a bad person?"

"I know it _sounds_ bad..."

"Sarah, I do not think it is a good idea to work for this man. He sounds far too much like I was. We are not rational when we trust such things to remove us from reality."

"And everything we've been through is why I think I can handle him, especially with what he pays me."

"I hear a 'but' in your voice."

"Yeah. A big one. I don't know if I want to go to work tomorrow or if I want to just let him see how much he's messed up."

"Sometimes the natural consequence of an act is also one that is a bit vindictive. It may do you both good to step back."

"Problem is that I really don't have much to go back to. The last gig is still there, but who wants to hostess ungrateful five star wallets their whole life? Not me."

"Have you savings?"

"Yeah. He pays _really_ well."

"Then for the next few days, do not worry. And call me if you decide to go back so I might escort you. There is nothing quite so chilling as a burly, slightly mad, Russian-Welsh coal mining brother."

He could almost hear her smile, "Thanks, Serge. Love you."

He hung up and returned to the living room to find his mother and grandmother arguing playfully over their needlecraft.

Sarah did not go to work for three days and then called Serge, "He sent me flowers with an apology letter."

"And what does this mean?"

"I think I'm going to go back to work tomorrow."

"You give me very little time to get from West Virginia to New York."

"You don't have to fly in."

"Ah, but there you are wrong. I do. I have a duty to my delightful darling sister."

"He's not going to like having someone he doesn't know at his house."

"Then perhaps you ought to meet him in public."

"I think he'd hate that even more- he's a bit of a hermit."

"Tell him I will be coming with you and you will be arriving late. Or do not go back at all. If he cannot appreciate you, I do not see why you are going back."

"Flowers."

"Are simply the reproductive organs of plants."

"He's sent them for three days."

"And?"

"Look, I'm going back to work, whether you like it or not."

He sighed, "I will see you tomorrow morning."

"I said you don't have to come."

"And I said I do, sister dearest."

He hung up the phone and went to tell his mother and grandmother he would be gone for a day or two.

Sarah pulled up to the Stark house at noon. As they stepped out of the car, Serge said, "It is a small house for someone who pays you what he does."

"Just wait until you see the inside. It's bigger than it looks."

"What, is it built into the side of the moutain?"

"Actually, yeah."

She knocked and James answered, "Come on in, folks. Tony's down in the kitchen attempting to cook."

"And how's that going?"

"Nothing's on fire...yet. Dear god, Sarah, how he survived without you I have no idea."

"Past few days have been that bad?"

"He burned toast. The toaster melted. I have no idea how what I saw was even possible." He led them downstairs, "Tony! They made it."

Howard burst from the library and jumped into Sarah's hug, "You came back!"

"Yeah, I did. But your dad and I are going to have to have a little talk."

"You're not going to leave for good, are you?"

"That's not my plan, but it's really up to him."

"Good." He pointed at Tony as he came out of the kitchen, "Don't mess this up, Dad."

Tony looked supremely uncomfortable, "Rhodey, can you take over in the kitchen?" He nodded, and Tony gestured to the couches, "Let's sit."

As they did, James shouted in surprise, "How did you catch _soup_ on fire?!"

Tony shrugged and then shrank into a couch, "I told him I didn't know how to cook."

"What did you eat when you were on your own?"

"A lot of takeout and things that were microwaveable."

"Ah. I should probably introduce you two. Serge, this is my boss, Tony. Tony, my brother Serge. Be nice." They shook hands.

"Sarah, I recognise your boss."

"Likely."

"You did not tell me you were working for Tony _Stark_."

"I didn't want you to make a big deal out of it."

"This explains why your apartment looks like a botanical garden."

"So you got the flowers. Look, I'm really sorry, Sarah. You're right. I was way out of line. Howard's made that clear the last few days. I'd like you to come back to work."

"Tony, if you ever treat me like that again, I'm done. I put up with a lot, and I can handle a lot, but I have my limits. Limits that even flowers can't sway."

"And I'm sure you know exactly where those are and you'll leave if I push you too far."

"Yes. I do. I adore Howard and I usually like working for you, but you pull that ungrateful crap again and I'm gone."

"I did enough to drive her crazy. I am her brother, I can get away with more," Serge added.

"If this is the protective brother speech, I assure you, I have no intention of a repeat."

"You may not intend to, but remember, I once let alcohol control me and I can say with some authority that your intentions mean precisely zilch."

"I don't need a lecture on my drinking habits."

"Well at least you know it is a habit."

"Huh?"

"Habits can be broken."

Tony just stared at him for a moment, "Yeah. I haven't done that yet."

"Then consider it a challenge. A gentlemen's wager. If you can get sober and stay such for a month, I will come cook you some of the delicious Russian dishes our Babushka passed down. There will be no kitchen fires, I assure you."

"And if I can't?"

"You owe me nothing. You try again until I win and you savour the victory of delightful Russian cooking."

"I like this bet." They shook.

Sarah stood, "I guess I have a lot of work ahead of me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I have to dump your stash."

Tony winced, "Oh. That's going to hurt."

"Serge's cooking."

He sighed, "Alright. But just let me have one more-"

"No. Today is going to be day one."

"Fine. But let's eat lunch first. I don't want to do this on an empty stomach."


	6. Sarah offers hope

It did not take long for Tony to lose Serge's bet. He made it a week and then got a bottle of bourbon to celebrate.

He then felt like an idiot for choosing to celebrate sobriety with booze. Sarah caught him trying to smuggle another bottle to his bedroom after depositing the empty in the sink.

"And where do you think you are going with that?"

"To bed."

"Why?"

"Because I already lost the bet; why not?"

She rolled her eyes, "Because he wanted you to keep trying, that's why. That was the whole point of making the bet one-sided."

"Sarah, this isn't going to work. I'm not the kind of person that can beat this."

She rested a hand on his shoulder, "Look me in the eyes, boss." He did, albeit reluctantly, "Every hour is a little victory. Hours turn into days. Days become weeks. Weeks become months. And months become years. And every time you fall off the wagon, you remind yourself of this and you start again. You are not the kind of person to let something defeat you. You are Iron Man. And you can fight your way out of this."

"Is this how you convinced Serge to sober up?"

"Little by little, yes. And I smacked him a lot. Sister thing."

"How many times did he start over?"

"At least a dozen. And it wasn't always right away. But that's OK. These things take time."

"So how do I drown the things in my head without it?"

"I don't know. Projects with your son. Building things. Research. Reading. Advanced calculations in physics. Learning languages. Learning to cook without setting anything on fire. Whatever works for you."

"How did Serge keep busy?"

"There's a reason _his_ cooking is fit for a king."

"I set soup on fire. I don't think that's going to be my outlet."

"Nikki Sixx says music is his higher power and he puts his faith in that to get him through- and if you've ever read his autobiography, you know how messed up he was."

"I can't play music worth a damn."

"Then crank up your AC/DC and build something amazing. Take up woodworking. Take up knitting- crochet sweaters for penguins. Whatever. Just do _something_."

He looked at the bottle in his hand, "Does it have to be right now?"

"I'd like you to try, but if you can't, that's OK."

"Howie is going to hate me for this."

"No, no he won't. We talked when you started this journey. He knows this isn't instant."

"You're a good governess, Sarah."

She pointed to the bottle, "So...am I taking that?"

"No. Not yet."

"OK."

"Have you ever felt like this? Lost someone and felt like throwing everything away?"

She dropped back against the wall and pushed her hair back, "Oy. Yeah. I have. And it wasn't fun."

"Did you drink yourself into oblivion?"

"I did a lot worse than booze. Serge'd only been sober for about a year and I knew I was being stupid. But he knew what to say and we made it."

"The suicide solution. 'Wine is fine but whiskey's quicker.'"

"Much better than the suicide precipitate."

He stared at her for a moment, "I'm not sure if that's a really good joke or a terrible one."

"Both. At the same time."

"Sarah, you're a gem. I promise, only this bottle. Then I'll be back." He retreated to his bedroom. She sighed, then went back upstairs to pick Howard up from school.


	7. The Tesla gala

It took Tony a few more tries before he finally feasted on Serge's dishes, none of them like anything he had ever tasted before. He was incredibly proud of himself for making it one month. As he approached his two month anniversary of sobriety, he received an invitation to a gala unveiling of Tesla Motors' IronCar, the first consumer vehicle to use arc reactor propulsion. The event promised to be as star studded as the Oscars, with formal gowns on beautiful women and men in tailored tuxedos with black ties. He whistled as he tried on his suit a week before and took Sarah and Howard to the city to shop for clothes. Sarah admired some of the gowns on display while Howard had his suit fitted.

"So...what would you say if I told you to pick one out?" Tony asked.

"I'd say you were crazy. I don't have anywhere to wear something so nice."

"How about to the Tesla gala?"

Her jaw dropped, "What?"

"The Tesla gala. I'd love your company. And Howard would probably like somebody to talk to if I get tied up in an interview. You can also remind me not to touch the champaign."

"I'll stick out like a sore thumb. I am so _not_ a society girl. I have no idea what to do in fancy situations."

"You'll be fine. Now, pick out a dress."

She went straight to an azure ballgown that glittered with crystals, "This is regal."

"Let's try it on you." He waved over an attendant and Sarah disappeared into a fitting room. The attendant dodged out a few times to bring things from other areas of the shop- foundation garments, shoes, long fingerless gloves, a few hairpins. When Sarah emerged to show off her dress, she was giddy. It fit well, with only a few alterations needed.

She twirled in front of Howard and Tony, "I look like Cinderella, but even more awesome!"

Howard clapped, "You're coming with us! This is so cool!"

By the end of the day, Sarah not only had her gown and shoes, but she also had jewellery she was convinced was worth more than her car.

It was not until they were in the limousine between the hotel and gala that Tony realised he would have to say something to the press to convince them that he and Sarah were not dating less than a year after his wife's death.

He was fretting over it when Howard piped up, "Just tell them she's my governess. She'll be spending most of the evening with me, anyway, while the press tries to get you to spill some deep and juicy secret."

"Well I hope to try to avoid any secret spilling tonight. I want a drama free day tomorrow."

"Not going to happen, Dad. Somebody's going to notice you not taking a glass and accuse you of being a raging alcoholic. Then everything's going to spiral out of control from there."

"But I am an alcoholic. That part wouldn't be a surprise to anyone."

"True."

Sarah was trying not to fiddle with the edge of her short cape as they pulled up to the red carpet, "Here we go..."

Someone opened the car door. Tony stepped out first, his smile wide, waving. He offered Howard a hand, and Howard turned to offer Sarah his. She tried to ignore the flashbulbs as Tony guided them to the door.

Howard patted her hand, "Stay with me, Sarah, and you'll be fine. I've been to a few of these and they're all pretty much the same."

"So what do we do first?"

"We get inside and get to the cloakroom. Then we dodge reporters while we get something to eat and Dad gets waylaid at least three times." She was surprised by how accurate his prediction was. They settled at a table while they waited for Tony to finish his interview, the reporter having cornered him while he was selecting shrimp.

Surveying the room, Sarah recognised many of the faces around her from television and magazines. Actors and actresses, politicians, heiresses, and even a few famous scientists mingled around tables, chatting while nibbling on finger sandwiches and shrimp cocktail. The room was a rainbow of silks and tulle punctuated by sharp black suits and the occasional brave soul wearing white.

About an hour into the event, Elon Musk himself unveiled the new car, with applause for Tony and the arc reactor. Then the party really began, the press kicked out and the doors closed for music, dancing, and a freely flowing open bar. Howard asked Sarah to dance. He then dragged his father to their circle and, the next slow song, slipped back to their table as Tony asked Sarah for a dance. She admitted to being a terrible dancer, but he reassured her.

"Just follow my lead. You'll be fine."

"But I'm a crappy follow."

"Miley is singing Poison. There's nothing complicated about it. Don't look at your feet, they're still down there. One, two. One, two." She laughed nervously, "You're getting it. Just keep going."

A few songs later, Tony suggested they turn in early, "I'm kind of sick of telling the wine guy that no, this table isn't taking any."

"Sounds fine by me- this has been an amazing evening. Let's end on a high note."

"Same here, Dad."

On their way out, Sarah sighed, smoothing the front of her gown, "I hope I get to wear this again someday. If not, I was a princess tonight." She smiled. Howard and Tony both offered her their arm, "And I get to be escorted out by the two delightful Stark gentlemen. I feel like the luckiest girl at the ball."

Howard grinned, "That's because you are."

Tony glanced at his watch, "Say, are either of you up for shawarma? There's this little place not far from here that's open late."

"Never had it," Sarah said.

"There's no time like now. Come on, let's go be fancy at the shawarma place."

After their dinner, they returned to the hotel, full and happy, and crashed, their formal clothes tossed over chairs. There would be time to pack the right way in the morning.

On the drive back to the Stark home, Tony's curiosity got the best of him, "So...since we don't have any place we really have to be today, how about we swing the old Volvo by your place? Meet Jack and Sally?"

"No...let's not. I haven't cleaned in ages and you'd be ashamed to call me your housekeeper."

"Eh, I don't mind a little mess."

"And it's not exactly in the greatest neighbourhood. I mean, really not the greatest."

"You're making excuses."

"Yep, I am."

"So why can't we drive by in broad daylight? If your neighbourhood is so dangerous we can't even drive through, I'll move you out right now."

Sarah smiled, "You're sweet, but no, you don't need to do that."

"You haven't given me a good reason."

"You told me not to tell anyone who I worked for."

"And what does that have to do with you not showing us where you live?"

"Well, for one, you being there would draw a lot of attention. And second...I didn't tell anyone. And moving out to someplace else would pretty much mean I'd have to tell someone where I worked."

It took a few moments for Tony to process what she'd said, "Wait. You still live in a dangerous neighbourhood because why?"

"Because filling out an application for a better apartment would require telling someone where I worked. They check these things out to make sure you can pay the rent. You don't just get to write down that you're a housekeeper and expect them to believe you."

He stared at her some more, "I'm not sure whether to be incredibly flattered that you take our contract that seriously or a bit disturbed."

"I've never been shot at where I live."

"But are other people shot there?"

"Yeah. There's a lot of drug activity. People do what they have to in order to survive. It's just life."

"If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Someplace quiet. The little cabin in the mountains where I can watch the sunsets and sunrises. Where I can have a big garden, chickens, and couple of goats. I want a huge stone fireplace and a woodpile in a lean-to next to the house, and maybe a little red barn for the animals and their feed. And a root cellar. And I want a woodshop with hand-turned tools and the beautiful woods my grandfather salvaged from pianos headed to the rubbish."

"Sarah, look for that little cabin. I'll make it happen."

"I know where it is. It's in West Virginia and my grandmother lives there. But let's just get you home to your place so I can be back here tonight to feed my rats."


	8. Another little victory

Sarah stopped at the gas station the day after the Tesla gala. The clerk did a double take. Sarah smiled and glanced at the tabloids on the way out. Her face was hovering over Tony's shoulder in a little circle, the text below it asking if she was the governess of his heart. She rolled her eyes, laughed, and hit the road.

When she arrived at the house, she heard music. Howard was dancing in the kitchen while he cooked eggs.

"Hey, kiddo- where'd you learn to cook?"

"Uncle James taught me how to make eggs! Go sit with Dad, they're almost done."

She did as he asked and settled in across from Tony, "Morning, boss."

"Morning. You need a refill on your coffee?"

"Just get me a fresh cup, will you? The paper one died a horrible death in the car on the way here."

"Ouch. I'll have that cleaned."

"No worries, the car will just smell like coffee for a few days. It's seen worse."

He returned with her coffee, "So...anyone bother you about the gala?"

"I think the clerk at the gas station was pretty surprised, but no. I live a quiet life, remember?"

"You and the rats. I don't suppose they said anything."

"Nope."

"What about Maebel?"

"She knows to wait until I bring something up. Nothing from her."

"Serge?"

"Not yet, but he's in West Virginia with Mum and Babushka, so I doubt he even knows."

"Do you have anybody else in your life? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Pizza guy? You never talk about your friends and in the car..."

"I don't have anybody else. I told you that. Dating seems like a waste of time. Oh, and the pizza guy won't deliver in my neighbourhood."

"But why not? It's not like you have to be a hermit in order for the press to leave you alone."

"I just don't, Tony. I don't like to get close to people."

"Does this have to do with the person you lost?"

"A little. I like to keep to myself."

"But are you happy that way?"

"Mostly." Howard called that the eggs were done.

In the months leading up to the anniversary of Pepper's death, Tony fell off the wagon a few times, but when Sarah asked him to start over, he did each time. His determination grew when Howard cheered him on and he finally made it to the boy's school conferences. For the first time in a long time, he was not afraid of saying something stupid to the teachers or staff.

When the anniversary came, Sarah prepared for the worst. She packed her overnight bag, brought a few spare sets of clothes in case she had to scrub the floors, and whipped her hair up with a pencil to make sure she was ready for anything. It was quiet. Too quiet. She set her coffee on the kitchen counter and went to find the Starks. She found them sitting in Pepper's room, the photo albums and scrapbooks open across the bed. She returned upstairs to the dishes.

She was surprised at the end of the day to find Tony still sober as he tucked Howard into bed and kissed his forehead. He retreated to his own room, passing her in the hall.

"Sarah, can you come sit with me for a little while?"

"Sure, boss."

He sat down on the bed, "It was just before midnight when it took her."

She settled next to him, "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. I don't want to be alone tonight. Can you stay?"

"Sure. I'll throw my stuff in the guestroom."

"Can you stay here? I don't want that to sound creepy or anything, I just...I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Just sharing bedspace?"

"Yeah. Nothing else."

"OK."

He was a little surprised by how easily she accepted his request, "Really? You don't feel weird about this?"

"No. Humans aren't made to sleep alone. And the night can be a relief and release or it can be utterly terrifying when we are left with only our thoughts and the shadows."

"Go get your bag. I need to just talk." She did as he asked and found Howard curled up beside him when she returned, "He fell asleep as soon as he was beside me."

"Do you still want me in here?"

"Yes." She got ready for bed and snuggled under the covers, "I want to drown the memories, Sarah. I want them dulled, gone, and I want to just drink until I black out so I don't think about any of this anymore."

"I think she'd be proud of you for coming as far as you have this past year."

"Extremis killed her. It wasn't even something she did. God, Sarah... I didn't even believe her when she said she didn't blame me. How can I believe she'd be proud of me?"

"Because it's belief. You'll never know, so you have to convince yourself that I'm right. And you have her letters."

"Yeah. Where she says she knows I'll fall apart after she dies. She knew. She told me to focus on Howie, but I couldn't even do that right."

She hugged him, "Grief sucks. It pulls us away from what we know we should be doing, but you've got this, boss. You made it to Howard's conferences. You've been sober for the better part of the past four months. You keep getting back up when you fall down. And you've got an adoring son who loves sharing time with you. You're going to keep moving forward with her in your heart."

"You're a smart one, Sarah."

"I do my best. Close your eyes. Rest. Tomorrow is the first day of year two."

"And somehow I'm going to make it?"

"Exactly."

Sarah woke the nest morning to find Howard already getting ready for school, Tony sleeping soundly, curled up against her. She showered, dressed, cooked breakfast, and was soon on the road.

Howard was quiet on the way to school, but after they passed the frozen barnyard where he usually counted cows, she asked, "Hey, kiddo- is everything OK?"

"Yeah. Just thinking. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything and everything, even if it's awkward or weird."

"Do you like Dad?"

"Well, yeah. He's a nice guy."

"No. I mean do you _like_ Dad?"

Sarah thought for a moment, "Why do you ask?"

"Way to dodge the question."

"I'll answer in a minute, but I want to know why."

"Because he was all cuddled up to you last night."

"Your dad was having a hard time thinking about your mom."

"I know. So was I. And it's OK if you two are, I guess."

"First off, we're not. And even if we were, I would never try to replace your mom- when he finally does start dating again, you be bold and tell him that any girlfriend who tries needs to take a hike."

"Do _you_ like Dad?"

"A little, I guess. But don't you tell him that."

He smiled, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."


	9. Changes

Tony had made it through a year sober; he decided he no longer needed a housekeeper. A few days before the end, Sarah and Tony talked to Howard.

On her last day, she was cleaning up after lunch when Tony joined her in the kitchen, "So...I'm going to miss you. When I first hired you, I thought maybe I could just keep my distance and this would be easy, but it's not really working out that way."

"I know, boss. It's not easy for me, either. But I need to keep bright for Howard, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. What are you planning on making for your last dinner?"

"That lasagna you boys liked so much."

She finished the dishes and went to the living room; he followed, "Oh god, that thing was good. I can't believe you made me love broccoli."

"Cooking magic, Tony- I'm a kitchen witch."

"I'm going to miss your cooking almost as much as your company."

"Well I'm not leaving New York. You know how to get in touch with me."

She stood up having retrieved an errant pillow to find Tony close beside her, "Sarah...thank you. For everything." He opened his arms.

She smiled and hugged him tightly, "I'm glad I could help."

"You probably saved my life."

She kissed his cheek, "Good- it's worth saving." She checked the time, "Got to go get Howard. Have fun while I'm gone."

Tony was still standing in the same spot when he heard the front door click closed. With a deep breath, he headed back to the kitchen.

On the way home, Howard was eager to share how well his art project had gone and how much his classmates had enjoyed his science fair project proposal. Between his stories, they played Cows in the Graveyard and Howard yet again won. He dashed to the house, excited to tell his father what he had told Sarah.

When they opened the door, he asked, "Why does the house smell like chocolate?"

"I have no idea. I wonder what your dad got into."

"He can build a suit out of scrap metal to burst out of an Afghani prison, but he can't cook without setting something on fire." They discovered that Tony was, indeed, in the kitchen, but nothing was on fire. Cooling on the counter was a beautiful chocolate cake. Tony was washing dishes. He smiled and waved, his pink flowered apron smudged with chocolate and flour.

"Dad...you baked."

"I followed the directions to the letter and it looks pretty. And the batter tasted good."

"Is that the recipe I made you guys? The one from the Hippie Handbook?"

"Yeah. It looked easy enough that even I could manage it."

"I'm proud of you, Tony. It's a right fine cake."

"Sweet. Can you whip cream for it when it's closer to cutting time?"

"Of course."

Howard went to start his homework and Sarah began the lasagna. While it cooked, she plopped on the couch and turned on the television to watch a few episodes of Star Trek. Tony sat beside her, his arm on the back of the couch.

Dinner was lively, and Tony's cake tasted as delicious as it looked. They played games late into the night. Howard hugged Sarah before going to bed and she promised to always answer is text messages.

She was packing up her bag when Tony handed her an envelope, "Don't open it yet...it's just a little bonus for being amazing."

"You're sweet. Tony. The best boss I ever had. Let's not drag this out, OK? I'm having a hard enough time with this."

"Oh. OK. But please keep in touch?"

"Of course. Goodbye, Tony."

"Yeah. Bye, Sarah. Be safe out there."

He heard her close the door and willed his feet to carry him down to his bed. Something about her leaving made the house feel empty.


	10. Mistakes

Sarah returned to working at the restaurant. With her black dress and pearls, she reported back to the monotony of playing nice for five star wallets.

Tony fell into a pattern- take Howard to school, spend time in the workshop building something, eat lunch, clean house, pick Howard up, homework, dinner, games, bed. He learned to play Cows in the Graveyard.

He met a young woman at the school- the aunt of one of the students. She was pretty, her dark blonde hair streaked with auburn. She laughed at his jokes, knew who AC/DC was, and drove a gorgeous red Corvette. They started dating. Once in a while, they attended events together. The tabloids announced that Tony Stark no longer appeared to be single.

Howard texted Sarah.

_Dad's got a girlfriend. You probably saw the rags. She's pretty._

She replied.

_Do you like her?_

He was busy composing his response when Tony noticed he wasn't doing his homework, "Hey, Howie- who're you texting? Red Badge isn't going to read itself."

"I'm done with it, Dad. Besides, it's a stupid book."

"Yeah, I hate it too. But you still haven't told me who you're texting. Got a girlfriend?"

"No. It's just Sarah."

"Phew. For a moment there I thought you were old enough to like a girl."

Howard rolled his eyes, "Come on, Dad. I'm not the Stark Sarah likes."

Tony sat down on the couch, "Wait, what?"

"She liked you, Dad."

"Well yeah. She's a sweet gal."

He rolled his eyes again, "Jeez, Dad, don't you know anything? She _liked_ you. You know, _like_ liked."

"She told you that? When?"

"When I asked her, that's when. And only a little. But she was better than Alison."

"I know you don't like Alison that much, but at least give her a chance, OK?"

Howard still had not looked up from his phone, "Fine."

Tony thought the conversation was over. He stood up.

"But she's only here because you're Tony Stark. Sarah would've been here just because you're _you_."

That night, after Howard was in bed, Tony sat in his room and thought about his future with Alison. She was pretty, and even though she wasn't as smart as Sarah, or as curious, she at least seemed interested in his work. But if he could choose between Alison and Sarah...

His head spinning, he went to the closet and reached behind a secret panel for a single bottle he had kept tucked aside through Sarah's purges. It was strong, and drinking the whole thing was a terrible idea. But he wasn't thinking, or, rather, he was thinking too much and figured that one drink wouldn't hurt. Or if it did, that it wouldn't hurt much. It took him some mental gymnastics to convince himself that he would be fine. He broke the seal and took a swig.

A few hours later, Howard woke to the sound of his father retching. He sighed, got out of bed, and found Tony facedown in the bathroom, a mess around him. He shook him. No response. He called his name and slapped him. Nothing. Then he saw the empty bottle discarded on the floor and panicked. He called James. James called the ambulance and both he and it arrived around the same time. En route, Howard texted Alison.

The doctors and nurses were sympathetic and reassuring. They praised Howard for having thought to grab the bottle and for knowing his father's vital statistics. James, however, had medical power of attorney and there were certain things they wanted to share without Howard in the room. When Alison arrived, Howard stepped out- only two people were allowed in the emergency ward. James promised to update him.

He sat in the waiting room and fiddled with his phone. He pulled up his text messages and found a reply from Sarah had come after he had gone to bed.

_Nobody will ever replace your mom- keep your chin up. Your dad is a good father and you'll figure this out together."_

He texted back.

_Dad is in the ER. Drank himself unconscious. I need someone to sit with. Come please?_

Sarah saw the message and tossed on clothes, grabbing her bag as she ran out the door. She flew down city streets and highways. She took a deep breath before stepping through the emergency room doors.

Howard jumped from his seat and hugged her, "Oh, god, Sarah, I'm so glad you're here."

She squeezed him, "Anything for you, kiddo. How's your dad doing?"

"They had to give him oxygen. I don't really understand why, but it must have been really bad, right?"

"If that and an IV is all they had to do, he'll be OK. He'll have one hell of a hangover in the morning."

"He was a mess when I found him. The bathroom is disgusting."

"You don't worry about that. I'll help you clean up, get you settled in. But why are you out here instead of with him?"

"Uncle James and Alison are back there. Only two people can be."

"Are you alright with not being one of them?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know."

"You're not convincing me."

"I don't think Alison should be, but she's his girlfriend."

"And you're his son."

"I know..."

"Howard, be honest."

"She keeps saying 'when I'm your mom' like this is a done deal. She won't ever be my mom, even if she and Dad get married. And I hope they won't. She doesn't like that I spend so much time reading Star Trek novels and she doesn't ever want to watch the show. She doesn't build models or help me draw maps of alien cities and she says my Star Trek stories are a waste of time. I feel guilty for liking all the things we used to like together. I'm too geeky for her."

She hugged him, "Have you told your dad any of this?"

"I can't tell him. He's so happy with her and I don't want to make him sad. I went and did something stupid today and you're going to be mad at me, but I think it's why he went and got drunk."

"I won't be mad. Just talk."

"I told him that you liked him a little. I know you said not to, but it just kind of happened..."

"It's OK. But why do you think that caused this?"

"Because I said I think she's only with him because he's Tony Stark and you like _him_."

Sarah smiled, "Your dad has to follow his heart, honey. But you're right that I like you guys for who you are. You did _not_ cause this, though. He made the decision to drink. He could have went to the lab to think, or played cards, or set soup on fire. The bigger problem right now is that you feel like Alison is trying to replace your mom and you haven't told your dad that you feel like this. He might not have even noticed."

"Yeah, but after this, I don't want to say anything that might upset him."

"This is about your family- you need to be heard, too. Your dad needs to lay that out for her so she's not hurt when you decide to keep calling her by her first name, even if she is an awesome step-mom."

"Thanks for coming, Sarah. And thanks for being the best governess ever." He leaned against her and she put her arm around his shoulders.

"Anytime, honey."


	11. In which everything comes quite clear

A few months later, Tony sat down to dinner with Howard on a sunny Sunday afternoon and hoped that the conversation he wanted to have would not be too horrible.

"Howie...what do you think about Alison being a bigger part of this family?"

Howard froze. He had not said anything about his conversation with Sarah- he hadn't even told his father that she had joined him in the waiting room or that she had cleaned up the house with James .

"So...no too happy?"

"Dad, she doesn't like anything I like. She doesn't want me writing fanfiction or building models of the Enterprise or drawing alien planets. She doesn't like any of the things I do. She keeps saying she'll be my mom someday, and she won't be."

"Why didn't you talk to me about this earlier?"

"I know, I know- Sarah even told me I should. But you were so happy and then you just lost it..."

"My weakness shouldn't stop you from telling me my girlfriend makes you miserable."

"But it did- me talking landed you in the hospital."

"No, no. Just no. I did it because I'm an idiot. You did _not_ cause it."

"Sarah said you had a choice to do something else but chose drinking instead."

"You did not make my bad decision for me."

"I guess."

"And when did you talk to Sarah? I thought you weren't texting as much because you got in trouble at school for it."

"She sat with me while you were in the hospital."

"She did?"

"I needed somebody to talk to. You were so out of it, you didn't know who was with you anyway."

"Wait, who was in the room with me?"

"Uncle James and Alison. Two people only. I went out the waiting room after Alison got there. I asked Sarah to come sit with me. She was great. She even came back after to help clean up the mess."

"Really?"

"Really."

"OK. So she and you talked about stuff?"

"She said I should tell you all the stuff about Alison and that I didn't ever want to call her mom. She said that even if Alison turned out to be an awesome step-mom, she needed to know I'm going to keep calling her Alison. And that's not going to change, no matter how close we all get."

Tony ran his fingers through his hair, "Wow, Howie- I wish you had told me about this earlier. I kind of want to ask her what she thinks about getting married someday and we really should talk about this first."

"Well then talk about it soon. Because Mom is my mom and Alison will always be Alison, not mom. And she'd better get used to Star Trek, because I'm going to be Spock for Halloween this year. I've been working on making ears."

Howard left the table and returned to the library and his homework, a large scale model of the Parthenon with the Elgin Marbles reattached.

Tony called Alison and asked to meet her while Howard was at school the next day.

When they sat down for coffee, he told her exactly what Howard had said. She fiddled with a napkin and told him she needed time to think. Two hours later, she called him and told him she would rather not see him anymore. She wanted to be a full part of the family or nothing at all, and Howard calling her by her first name felt like she was still an outsider. She wished him well before saying goodbye.

He tried to hide the fact that he had been dumped when he picked Howard up from school, but he had never been a particularly good liar when it came to his son. It wasn't long before the boy prodded the reason for his dismal mood out of him. Afraid of what his father might do, Howard insisted that they marathon watch the Star Trek movies until bedtime. They made it through "The Voyage Home" before Howard fell asleep. Tony did not want to disturb him, so he sat on the couch and thought, the menu music looping in the background. He hardly noticed. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

_Hey, Sarah. It's Tony, in case you lost my number or something. Howard talked to me about Alison. She dumped me. We're doing OK. No booze tonight. Thought you would be proud of me._

He deleted the message instead of sending it.

He thought about sending messages every night and deleted each one. It seemed silly to message her so soon. She might think he was just bouncing to her because he'd been dumped and he wanted to avoid that kind of doubt in their friendship. This, of course, made him question even more why he hadn't considered asking her out. The only answer he could come up with hit him while he was tinkering in the lab.

"Sarah's _always_ been something special. Even when I didn't know it. Damn it, why didn't I figure this out earlier?"

He put his project aside and tried to look her up online. She had no social media presence, and he couldn't remember the restaurant she had worked at. He went up to the library and dug through the file cabinet trying to find her resume. Howard stared at him suspiciously.

"Dad, what on earth are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out where Sarah works. But I don't want her to know."

"That doesn't really explain much."

Tony stopped rifling through papers and leaned on the cabinet, "Look, I'm a complete idiot. And you're right. Sarah was more than just a governess. She was a really damn good friend. And I realised that this was exactly how things started with your mom- she was just a part of my life I didn't want to let go of, ever. And I think Sarah could do what Alison couldn't and accept that your mom is always going to be with us."

"So why don't you just text her? I mean, here, I'll do it."

"No! I mean...I want to surprise her."

"With what?"

"I don't know yet. But something."

"By showing up at wherever she works."

"Yep. Do you remember where it was she said she hostessed? Someplace five star."

"This might help." Howard turned his phone to his father. On it was a photograph of Sarah with a birthday card at her hostessing station.

_Sorry I won't be able to get this sent in time for your birthday, but it is in the mail! Happy birthday, kiddo- I hope you and your dad have an AWESOME day._

"She sent you birthday texts?"

"Yeah. I sent her ones, too. You said we could keep in touch."

"I know. I didn't, though. I mean, I did for a little while, but I sucked at it."

"She still asks how you are."

"That's because she's a sweet woman."

"And because she likes you."

"Maybe, maybe not. She _liked_ me quite a while ago. Who knows, she's probably got a new boyfriend or something."

"Nope, just her rats. Jack and Sally. And they are doing well."

Tony returned his attention to the photograph, "You can see some of the letters on the menus behind her...can I take this to the lab? I want to enlarge it..."

Howard was shaking his head, smiling, "Fine, Dad. Just bring it back soon- I have to let her know how my Parthenon project went."

It took Tony a few hours to hunt down the restaurant. Then he had to decide what to do for her, what he wanted to tell her, and if he could do anything to convince her to move closer.

Two weeks later, Tony and Howard dressed in their suits and drove to the city. The restaurant was fancy- more so even than Tony had expected. When they stepped up to her station, she gasped in surprise.

"Tony! I didn't see your name on the reservation list. Hi, Howard!"

"That's because it's under AJ Hinkelbright."

"You are one strange bird, boss."

"Ah- not boss anymore. Just Tony."

"Alright, Just Tony. Ellie will be your server today. I hope you enjoy your dinner."

"Will do."

She did not notice him whispering to Ellie as she took care of the couple next in line.

Not long later, the next hostess came to relieve her, "You're on break, Sarah- Mr Stark requests you join him."

"But I have another half an hour before my break."

"Not anymore. Go see what the man wants."

When she settled, still surprised, at his table, Tony was grinning from ear to ear, "You made it! Great! Take a rest, order something to eat."

"I still have hours on my shift."

"Nope, you don't. Felicity's been tipped nicely. And I bought this place a few days ago, so management's not going to give you any trouble."

Her jaw just about hit the floor, "You what?"

Howard giggled, "Bought. Dad bought it. We've been super busy."

"Boys, what on earth is this all about?"

Tony reached across the table and took her hand, "Sarah, I've missed you. Really missed you. I haven't felt like I honestly needed someone in my life like this since...well, it's been a long time. I want you to come spend time with us again. I know you like having your own space, but still... Can I make one of your dreams happen? I found this..." He showed her a picture on his phone, "And it's right near me. Or it is now. It wasn't when I found it."

She flipped through the pictures of a realtor's listing for a little log cabin, "This is...is this my late grandmother's cabin?"

"Yeah. It's on a quiet part of the mountain about a mile from the house. There's a woodpile in the lean to. There's a little red barn and it's ready for your chickens and goats. The woodshop is even there and your mom and Serge helped me get the hand-turned tools that were your grandfather's. It's all there. The breakfast nook, the window bench, the fireplace, even the old lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The water's even pumped by windmill."

She was speechless, "The mining company..."

"Got a damn good price for the land. Please, Sarah. Come back to the mountain. Howie tells me you want to paint and write- whatever job you want, I'll make it happen. But I need you to be a part of my family."

"Tell Dad what you said your dream job is."

"A gallery. Something small that the artists all partially own. And outside of the city."

Tony took his phone back and made a call, "Hey, Rhodey- can you do some scouting for me? I need a small gallery out of New York City for Sarah. Yeah, we're at dinner. I'll call you back later."

She started laughing, "You're serious? All this...holy hell, this is a lot to take in."

"Are you happy?"

"God, yes...you bought the restaurant? Just so you could make sure I would have the time off to talk to you?"

"Pretty much."

Howard was still beaming, "Will you come live by us?"

"Yes- of course! You moved my grandmother's cabin- how can I not?"

"So when can I call for a moving truck? Now? Because we can get you in your new house tonight if you want to."

She hesitated, "No, I think I have to wait."

"Why?"

"Because there are penalties if you break your lease."

He shook his head, "And what does that matter? I'll gladly pay any fine."

"But I'll get a bad reference..."

"Sarah. Stop. You're never going to have to rent again. You don't _need_ a good reference."

She let that news sink in.

Ellie returned and they ordered dinner before continuing their conversation.

"So...is it moving day? And don't worry about giving your two weeks here. I hear the owner is very understanding."

"Yes. But I'm not going to need a truck- just get a trailer we can hitch to the back of the Volvo. I don't have much stuff."

He lifted his glass, "To dreams, Sarah- let's make some come true."

Howard raised his, "And to family, however we find it."

Sarah clinked her glasses to theirs, "Yes, to dreams and family. You guys are amazing. Honestly amazing."

After dinner, Sarah left the restaurant, giddy. They picked up a trailer and packed her apartment, certain the tabloids would run wild with the news that Tony Stark moved someone out of a shabby flat on a street known only for drugs and shootings.

Sarah, however, had no plans to ever see those tabloids- there was no reason to stop by the gas station in the morning. She would wake early, make her first cup of coffee in the very first house she ever owned, but also the house she had always felt most at home in. She would wander, awe-struck, through the woodshop, her grandfather's tools ready for the fine and exotic woods stacked neatly on the racks. And she would watch her first sunrise from her own little front porch. And then it would be time to start the day, her best friend and his son walking up the stone driveway to greet her.

When she saw them coming to her house on foot for the first time, everything felt right. Everything always had felt right in the little cabin in the woods, and it still did, even in a different woods.


End file.
